


On the Road

by Ill_Tempered_Clavier



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Dragon Age II
Genre: Character tag oughtta be Lady Hawke, Crack Crossover, F/M, I Don't Even Know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-13 20:54:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10521660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ill_Tempered_Clavier/pseuds/Ill_Tempered_Clavier
Summary: Here is the ASOIAF/DA: II crackfic absolutely no one asked for but came to mind when I was doing a playthrough and thinking about the character parallels between Brienne/Aveline and Varric/Tyrion and thinking how funny it would be for them to meet up somewhere. (I might also be plotting out a Mass Effect/ASOIAF fic. Heeeeeee)I had something fluffier and funnier in my head, but sadly neither Varric, Jaime, Tyrion, nor snarky Lady!Hawke were helping my muse. Still, hope this is amusing. Would love to see someone take this idea and run!





	

“So what’s the name of this city again?” Brienne makes a face, cranes her neck to stare at the grotesque statues of despairing chained slaves hanging high on stone walls and winces.

“Kirkwall. The Great Masters of Meereen would just love what they’ve done with the place,” Jaime curls his lip and eyes the statues with distaste. “Let’s see if the entire city has been so fortunate in its public art.”

More upset than he likes to let on about the lack of reconciliation with Tyrion and subsequent exile, Jaime chooses the farthest port possible upon reaching Volantis. They hired themselves out as sell swords to stretch out the generous coin purse Tyrion tossed at Jaime after his sentence had been announced (“Farewell, big brother. The debt between us is paid in full”). They sail south to the Summer Islands, stopping for a bit in Ebonhead. The markets are rich and Brienne has to forcibly march Jaime away from a jeweler’s stall displaying the finest sapphires either of them have ever seen. “Well, not quite as fine as the ones in your ugly skull, my lady,” he grins at her. (Jaime has learned that Brienne will only accept his compliments if he hides them in jibes. It makes a twisted kind of sense: children require sugar to tolerate their medicine; the wench is near a giantess, so she requires sweetness be delivered through bitterness.)

From there, they pass south out of the lands of their maesters’ geography lessons and find a land called Antiva where they meet their first elves. They are rather relieved to find the common tongue holds even here. Antiva reminds them a bit of Dorne: warm weather, half-naked people, charming assassins, and poison everywhere—one even tries to seduce both of them, but Jaime’s never been into men (or sharing) and Brienne’s never been into flattery, so the assassin goes home lonely, but at least everyone walks away and with all eyes and limbs intact, such as they are.

They continue south overland a bit, then take a ship to the city where they find themselves now: Kirkwall. They have enough coin to get through the gates. There they encounter their first dwarves and find a job board. There’s plenty of work to keep them busy. Both breathe a sigh of relief. Maybe they can stay put for a bit, begin to think about having a life.

They gladly leave the ghoulish statuary of the Gallows behind them, wind their way through the wealthy part of town, and go to the pub that’s been recommended to them by a merchant. They can’t see the musicians, but they can hear a lute and a tambour playing an unfamiliar tune. Brienne is nearly as grateful to have left “The Bear and the Maiden Fair” behind as Jaime is to be sure he’ll never have to hear the “The Rains of Castamere” again. The place is pretty full, but there are two seats left at a table where a tall woman, a shorter woman, and a dwarf are sitting. Jaime inclines his head and gestures to the open spots with a questioning look on his face. The dwarf welcomes them.

“Sit down, friends! Judging by your armor, you’ve traveled far—I’ve not seen their like before. Varric Tethras at your service. New to town?”

Brienne takes a closer look at the company. The larger woman is in heavy armor and is nearly as tall, as freckled, and well-built as she but is with long red hair tied back. One of the things Brienne has appreciated since they left Westeros is that women fighters are not considered odd or strange. Jaime sees Brienne sneaking glances at the (other) armored woman and whispers slyly in her ear as he settles next to her, “Hmmmm, a Tully variation of wench, mace, freckles and all, but I prefer the original.” Brienne almost smacks him but instead settles for huffing quietly and rolling her eyes in exasperation. Her eyes get a lot of exercise these days. 

Jaime turns his best harmless, charming grin on their company. “We’re travelers from far north. Sell swords looking for honest work.” 

The Tully-haired warrior woman herself looks them both carefully over, but her eyes are less curious and more business like: she is cataloging their equipment, the quality of their weapons and armor, their fitness. She also seems to be trying to peer into their souls, so as Jaime can’t help feeling a bit scrutinized as this new woman holds his eyes, he turns up the brightness of his regard a degree or so while still sitting quite close and leaning slightly into Brienne who has settled next to him on the bench. 

Varric chides, “Aveline, you’ll scare our guests. They’re clearly new to the city. Please forgive my friend here. She is captain of the guard and so a bit over protective, both of us and of the city.” Brienne looks up quickly at that and Jaime can feel the surprise and interest radiating from her. “After all, remember when you first came to Kirkwall? And weren’t you saying you were looking for some fresh blood for the guard untainted by local politics?” Jaime can practically see Varric pulling puppet strings and feels a twinge at the easy, shrewd conversation of the golden dwarf sharing their table. He imagines a gleeful, bloodless war of words between Tyrion and Varric and his heart hurts a bit.

Aveline shoots Varric a look. Brienne almost feels a twinge of sympathy. Big-mouthed over bold companions are a trial. 

Aveline tries to benignly glare at them both, “Welcome to Kirkwall, travelers. I’m sure as LAW ABIDING FOLK you’ll find this a friendly city. And it’s true: there’s ample opportunity for honest, honorable work for those who know how to wield a sword. If you think you might wish to stay, it’s true: we are always looking for new HONORABLE guards.” 

The shorter woman dressed in soft, dark leathers and with a scar down her cheek speaks for the first time, smiling into her cup, looking over at her friend. “Aveline, stop scaring the tourists. They look honest enough.” She tilts her head, considering both Jaime and Brienne. “Wellllll….she does, at least. And if she’s traveling with him, she’s probably keeping him honest.” The woman turns a nearly innocent smile on Jaime, winks at Brienne, and smirks at Varric. Aveline huffs into her tankard.

Jaime latches on to this lighter tone, and asks, “Sooooo, seeing as we’re new in town, what’s been going on here? There seems to be a bit of a buzz in the there air.”

All three of their tablemates share a dark look. The smaller, scarred woman looks up with a long-suffering expression. “Well, this week, apparently my mine is suffering from a dragon infestation."

Brienne and Jaime turn to each other, locking eyes. “Bloody dragons!”

Then Jaime tilts his head. “So...you need help with that?”


End file.
